


What the Wild Wolf Saw

by Jarakrisafis



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 18:45:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/600945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jarakrisafis/pseuds/Jarakrisafis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Advent prompt from TF speedwriting on LJ: Setting: a lonely country road at night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What the Wild Wolf Saw

_Be wary._

The very wind had whispered it, the wind ghosting across the ridges high above, yet never sweeping down into the valley.

_Be wary._

Pack survives by listening, understanding, trusting.

The wind howls again, like a banshee in the darkness. The mist thick in the lower valley, hard to see even for one with keen eyesight.

_Be wary._

Something isn't right.

Something... Unknown.

Fire and flood and snow so deep all you can do is keep find shelter: the wind warns of all of these. The very ground murmuring it's own warnings.

Yet tonight it is vague, almost like it too has no idea what is too happen.

Grey fur lifts in a sudden breeze, sniffing at the wisp of scent, ears pricking. Something is out there.

One of the ground beasts that roll around but rarely leave the flattened trails. The beasts which carry the small two legged ones. Always the same smell, the sickly scent of fluids which leave rainbow patterns when they fall.

What is it doing here, so far away from the big trails.

 _Be wary._ The wind says, yet the beasts don't notice us. They never do. Rolling around at the two legged ones whim like they have no will of their own.

Closer, closer, creeping closer, each paw fall careful until it materialises out of the mist.

It's big. Bigger than the normal beasts, one of the worker class as we call it. They come here sometimes to take the trees. This one has a lifting arm, and a sharp hook to latch onto what it is dealing with. Yet it isn't moving, just sitting there, a soft rumbling purr echoing around. And there are no two-leggers, not even the scent of them.

Another rumble and a tree becomes the best cover as another one arrives. Smaller, blocky, light as the mist it has arrived from. It too idles, it's own soft rumble spreading out across the clearing they are sitting in.

Then they shift. Changing.

The ground trembles.

The wind howls it's own warning.

Then they are stood like the two-leggers. Pressing themselves against the other. The ground shakes as they crash to the ground. Fighting?

No. Not fighting. They whistle and click, never stopping the rough rumbling purr. The silvery beast showing it's throat to the bigger, darker one. Are they mates? Is this how they create more of the beasts?

The fist tingle in the air is unexpected. The charge in the atmosphere like a building storm. Is that why they are so far away from their normal trails?

It is too much, the sharp tang of sky-fire permeating the clearing, yet no storm above.

The beasts don't notice as grey fur fades into the mist. They never do.


End file.
